


The Art of the Bluff

by floralicious (slightlyraspberry)



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, I named a character literally just so I could make a pun guys it's not ~that~ deep, Implied Sexual Content, Layton Big Bang 2018, Lesbian Character, almost a prequel to Azran Legacy, not nearly as dramatic as the summary makes it sound I think, nothing graphic tho just rated teen to be safe, pozzls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyraspberry/pseuds/floralicious
Summary: Professor Layton and company must put their minds to the test when Targent invades a pleasant evening at the Scorpion Casino. In the wake of the attack, a night of betrayals is hard to avoid.-Layton Big Bang 2018.





	The Art of the Bluff

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Layton Big Bang 2018! Many thanks to the mod, lukes-journal on tumblr, 101flavoursofweird for editing, and spanish-buzz-lightyear for the accompanying art, which is linked below. Also you know the line in MM where Drake invites the gang to see a show? I took that and ran a couple miles with it.
> 
> Link for the amazing art!!  
> http://spanish-buzz-lightyear.tumblr.com/post/177130129487/the-art-of-the-bluff-floralicious

“Professor, look over there!” cried Luke as he spotted yet another shiny machine. “Can we play that one next?”

“I think one machine is enough, my boy,” Layton said. The two were surrounded by the flashing lights of the Scorpion Casino. It was crowded, with people occupying nearly every card table and slot machine. The smell of cigarette smoke filled the air, thinly masked by air freshener being pumped into the massive room. 

‘But Professor-” Luke protested.

‘I’m sorry, Luke, but I can hardly reconcile taking a young man like yourself into a casino as it is. What would your father say?” 

“Father wouldn’t mind! These gambling games are just big puzzles anyway. There’s no money to be lost in this section of the casino!”

Layton shook his head and tsked. “I admire your deductive reasoning, but I’m afraid the answer is still no.” Luke grumbled, but consented to the professor’s ruling. “Luke, my boy, have you seen Emmy anywhere? The show will start soon.” He skimmed the mass of people for Emmy’s yellow trench coat, but to no avail. 

Luke tilted his head and hummed. “Well, she said something about making her ten pounds into ten thousand, so she must be over… there!” He stuck his index finger towards the more adult section of the casino, where money could be gambled.

“I think you’re right, my boy. Stand right here, I’ll go retrieve her.” Layton walked to the red rope dividing the puzzle and gambling areas, where Drake let him in without trouble. There he found Emmy at a card table, playing poker with a collection of hopefuls and an indifferent dealer. She looked concentrated but serene, her hair tied into a knot on the back of her head. 

Emmy must have felt his presence over her shoulder. She didn’t even look at him while saying, “Just a minute, Professor. Hand’s almost over.” Chips were littered all over the table as if they had fallen out of a broken piñata, while some were stacked in colored towers like strange, flat candies.

The remaining players showed their hands. Emmy grandly gathered all of the scattered chips and swept them in- she had won the hand. 

“And that’s how you play poker, Professor,” she said as she shook her hair out of its constraints and around her shoulders.

Layton just hummed. “The show is about to start, Emmy.”

“Oh!” Emmy darted to retrieve her trench coat, which had been hung on the chair she was sitting in like a deflated balloon. “I’m out, folks,” she said. “Let’s pick this up later, eh?” The group continued, mildly confused as to what to do with Emmy’s abandoned money.

She followed Layton to where Luke had been waiting in the puzzle section, pondering a doozy of a block puzzle. 

“Any luck?” she asked him. 

“No,” Luke said dejectedly. “I think I’ll save this one for the car ride home.”

They went to the theatre within the casino. It was appropriately lavish, with large pillars on either side of the entrance accompanied by marble statues of a lyre and a sock and buskin. Lightbulbs surrounded the marquee above the entrance, which read “Scorpion Theatre of Monte d’Or” in big block letters. The sign too had a magical air of mystery, seeming to shimmer in invitation to the audience.

Drake stood at the entrance to collect tickets to the show. Layton handed him the three complimentary tickets they had been provided, each emblazoned with a holographic scorpion, and Drake nodded them into the theatre.

It was small, considering the size of the building, but then it probably was rare for patrons to venture into fine art on a night intended for gambling away their livelihoods. A small crowd had gathered to partially fill the plush and underused red velvet seats. The chatter was different from that of the casino- anticipatory instead of anxious.

Spotlights circled the stage as if searching for a performer, riling up the audience in preparation for the show. It seemed that nobody actually knew what the main event was- confused snippets of conversations twisted and turned in the air.

Luke, Layton, and Emmy gazed up at the stage as the heavy, crushed velvet curtains lifted along with a steady drumbeat to reveal-

“A robot?” Emmy said, tilting her head.

Indeed, the figure onstage was metallic and stiff. Made in the image of a sultry lounge singer, it shimmered in the hot spotlights as it took a shuddering breath.

The professor tilted his head to match Emmy’s. “No, not a robot,” he said. “That is a very talented young woman, I’m sure.”

“Well, she has to perform before you can judge that, Professor!” piped Luke. 

Emmy seemed to be entranced by the figure, like a sailor by a siren. Her eye was drawn by the tight silver fabric of the woman’s dress, which clung to the edges of her generous curves. Dyed red curls fell down her back, somehow bouncing despite a lack of movement from the woman. She was elevated at least five inches by the spangly shoes that matched her dress. She posed facing away from the audience with her legs bent and one foot popped, her hands set defiantly on her hips. 

The woman drew one hand up to a microphone stand in front of her and, with a sound like a bursting bubble, pulled a slim microphone off to bring it up to her mouth. A drummer from below the stage began to tap out a slow beat. The woman turned around in a smooth fashion, letting out an audible exhale into the microphone. 

Luke gasped. “Professor! Look at her necklace!” he whispered to his right side, where the professor leaned back in his seat. 

“What about it, my boy?”

“It looks like an artifact of some sort! Or a puzzle!”

“Are you sure it’s not just how shiny it is?” Emmy said quietly on Luke’s other side, not once taking her eyes off the performer. 

The necklace in question hung around her neck, the pendant resting right beneath her collarbone and several centimetres above the low cut of her dress. It was beautifully made of interlocking silver and gold pieces to form a diamond-like shape. 

The bearer of the necklace stepped forward on one delicate stiletto. “My name is Cherri with an “I”. And I’m here to make your night here in Monte d'Or the best ever!” Drums carried on under her- and was that a bass line Layton heard coming in?

The dim casino lights managed to somehow glint off of her necklace. Luke fixed his eyes on it, while Emmy busied herself with watching Cherri’s luminous brown eyes scan the crowd in the theatre. 

“It must be a puzzle,” he said. “A sliding block or- or something like that!”

Emmy shushed him gently. “Listen to Cherri,” she whispered. Cherri had, in fact, commenced singing to the rhythms of the band. A cutting piano and lazy guitar had joined the bunch to accompany her loud but not entirely beautiful voice. It wasn’t unpleasant, just- average.

“Just because we’re not in Vegas doesn’t mean the entertainment can’t feel like we are!” she said in between verses of whatever song she was singing. Every note of each song was lost on Luke, who was much too preoccupied with the pendant. 

“Would Miss Cherri let me have at it, do you think, Professor?”

“My boy, it’s not very gentlemanly to wonder such a thing while the lady is performing.”

“Sorry, Professor.” 

Emmy gripped her armrests. Cherri had just blown her a kiss. Or rather, blown someone a kiss. But Emmy thought it was directed at her. 

She sang 90 minutes worth of breathtaking but rather mediocre songs. As the program came to a close, Cherri returned her microphone to its stand and sat at the baby grand that had been brought out for her. 

“This one is for any of you audience members who haven’t found love in a good long time,” she said into the microphone.

“That’s both of you!’ Luke said, gesturing to the people on either side of him.

Emmy shushed him again, her face turning pink. 

But as Cherri placed her hands on the keys, the spotlight turned suddenly purple. Her hands tensed, barely resting on the piano as she drew her shoulders back. Her smile remained bright, but she still seemed suddenly nervous. 

Inhaling, Cherri played the first chord.

Almost instantly, a group of tall figures in dark trench coats dropped down from the fly system above the stage. They surrounded the singer, blocking her from view, but a breathy gasp into the microphone projected over the theatre’s tiny speakers.

Emmy sprang up from her chair and sprinted up to the stage, leaving the seat to swing on its hinges behind her. Layton and Luke were swift to follow. 

“Luke! Stay back!” Emmy yelled over her shoulder. “They might be dangerous!”

Luke just forged ahead. He watched as Emmy reached the stage and vaulted on to the stage. Barely stopping for breath, she endeavored to dispatch each goon one by one. 

She took one out with a well placed punch, whipping around to kick another. Emmy was a whirl of limbs, her yellow coat standing out against the attackers’ dark ones. 

Just as she seemed to be tiring, Layton arrived. He pushed through the crowd to get to the piano bench, which he dismantled into a haphazardly stacked pile of wood. The next moment saw Layton with a leg in each hand as makeshift sabres, knocking henchmen down with elegant smacks. A cacophony of fear filled the air, shouts of the injured mixing with buzz of the frightened audience. 

Luke finally climbed onto the stage, just in time to see Emmy make eye contact with the last figure- a bulky woman with thin eyebrows holding Cherri captive. 

“Touch me and she doesn’t get out of here unharmed!” said the henchwoman, solid as a stone. 

“I suggest you think again, miss,” Layton said from behind her. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, having traded his wooden sticks for fists. Cherri was flung out of the woman’s arms into Emmy’s, tumbling in her heels so that both of them fell to the floor. 

Layton had the other woman pinned. “I suggest you surrender- and give Miss Cherri her necklace back.”

“Why are you here?” Luke asked from afar. 

The woman just grinned and lay limp, refusing to do anything but unfurl her fist to reveal the necklace that had previously resided on Cherri’s neck. Layton gingerly stood up before releasing the woman to Emmy, who removed herself from underneath Cherri and gingerly tied the henchwoman’s belt around her wrists to discourage any more trouble. 

At this point the audience had fled. One young man sat numbly in the house, giving a comically slow round of applause for the fight. 

Emmy took the necklace from the woman’s hand and offered it to Cherri. “Are you alright?” she asked. 

“Good as gold, darling,” murmured Cherri as she pushed herself up from the floor of the stage. 

“I’m Emmy. And this is Luke-” here Emmy gestured to the boy- “and Professor Hershel Layton.” She put her hand on the professor’s shoulder.

“Layton!” said Cherri. “Why, I’ve heard of you. Solve mysteries, don’t you?”

“He does, and I’m his apprentice! Is that a puzzle, Miss Cherri?” said Luke, pointing at the necklace in Emmy’s hand. 

“Luke!” hissed Emmy. 

Cherri just laughed. 

“If you’ll put it on me, dear,” she said to Emmy with a wink, “I’ll show you.”

Emmy obliged, trying not to touch Cherri’s skin for fear of feeling sparks. 

Cherri thanked her. She then grasped the pendant and fiddled with it, bending the small pieces of metal forming a jewel-like shape around a center until she was holding two parts- a red, perfectly round stone with no obvious purpose and the metallic shell previously encasing it. 

“This is a puzzle, I’m sure,” she said, handing the stone to Luke. “But I’ve only ever been able to solve the first part.”

Layton leaned over to look at the stone. “It must be Azran technology. Cherri, where did you get this?”

“It was a gift from my grandmother. She got it from a pawn shop, as far as I know,” said Cherri, shrugging. 

Emmy hushed them. “Not so close to the goons,” she said. “Perhaps we should take this back to our hotel room? And inform the casino security?”

And because she was right, the group followed her. Cherri’s heels clicked first on the tile floor of the casino as Layton explained the situation to Drake, then on the cement of the path to the Reunion Inn. Luke toyed with the stone, pressing every surface. He slid his fingers over the smooth exterior.

“Miss Cherri, have you ever noticed that this vibrates in certain spots? Like it’s sending a message, or gears are turning or something?” he said. 

“Luke, may I take a look? That is, if it’s fine with you, Cherri,” said Layton. Luke obligingly handed him the stone. Layton held it up to his eyes, examining every centimetre.

“I believe that if we push…” Layton pressed the edge of the smooth surface. It opened to reveal a buzzing collection of interlocking gears, as shiny as if they were new. “A-ha! There!”

Cherri gasped. “Professor, how did you do that? May I see?”

“It seems that all you have to do is press the edge for long enough. The hints were quite helpful,” Layton said. He passed off the machinery to Cherri. She marveled at the gears as they moved and stopped in an almost pattern-like fashion. 

“But Professor, what purpose do they serve?” Emmy interjected. 

“I’m not quite sure yet, Emmy. Shall we take a closer look when we reach the hotel?”

The continued on. It had grown dark outside, and there were no stars to be found. The lights of the busy street blocked out any chance of natural light in the heart of Monte d’Or. Passersby chattered around them, but the rush of people in the streets slowly died down as they approached the Inn.

When the professor and his companions finally arrived at the Reunion Inn, they headed straight for Luke and Layton’s room. Layton opened the door and switched on the lights. He took Cherri’s stone from his pocket, where it had been stashed while they walked.

“Can I take a crack at those gears, Professor?” said Emmy eagerly. He handed her the stone. Cherri leaned over Emmy’s shoulder, reaching her arm around Emmy’s to run a finger down the sleeve of her coat, across her hand, and then around the edge of the stone surrounding the machinery.

Emmy shivered, and she didn’t think it was because of the temperature.

She started to rearrange the gears, completely dismantling the delicate pieces of metal into something that looked like it served a purpose. 

“And now the moment of truth!” she said grandly. Luke and Layton joined Cherri to gather around Emmy and watch the new configuration of gears. The stone slowly started to open further. A diorama made of gears took form. 

“Is that… a cave?” murmured Luke. 

“So it would seem,” Layton mused.

Cherri gently took the miniature scenery from Emmy’s hand. “It’s beautiful,” she said as she inspected the stone. She shifted her eyes to Emmy’s, but Emmy was busy looking at the tiny scene. After a split second, Cherri looked back at the diorama. “Is that some sort of wall inside the cave?”

“It’s quite intricate,” Layton said. “What could it possibly mean?”

“The better question is, how did your grandmother get this?” said Emmy. 

“Erm… a pawnshop, wasn’t it?” Cherri said, blushing. “I’m not quite sure. It was passed down as a pendant, not a puzzle. We’re not exactly a puzzle family.”

“But you managed to solve the outside,” Luke said. 

“Oh, that was nothing,” Cherri responded . “Not worth 20 picarats. The gears were much more impressive.”

“Pardon me, Cherri, but might I see the shell this diorama was in?” Layton asked.

Cherri shrugged and took off the necklace to which the metal mechanism was attached. Layton took it and inspected the workings. 

“How clever,” he said. “Looks complicated, but all you have to do is move one the vertices. Good work, Cherri.” 

“Don’t praise me, praise whoever came up with this puzzle,” Cherri giggled. “Now… what do you think it means? The diorama?” She leaned slightly forward and narrowed her eyes in pursuit of the answer.

“I couldn’t say,” said the professor. “I am many things, none of them a fortune teller.”

Emmy smiled and turned around to face the group. “I can tell you this much,” she said, meeting Cherri’s eyes, “it certainly spells adventure!”

-

Luke lay asleep, his covers rising and falling with his breath. Cherri sat at the small desk in the room, fiddling with her necklace that had since been returned. The lights were dimmed, and Cherri found herself thinking about Emmy’s smile… how quickly she solved that puzzle… and how thrown she seemed by physical contact. Cherri would have to fix that.

Meanwhile, Layton and Emmy were stationed down the hall, outside of the hotel room. 

Layton looked worried, having taken his hat off in order to run his fingers around the brim nervously. Emmy stood with her hands behind her back and her feet spread, facing Layton.

“Emmy,” he said, “I must ask that you keep a close eye on Cherri. I’m not sure how she came in possession of such an artifact, but you must make sure that she does not lose or damage it. Would it be terribly intrusive to ask that you host her in your room tonight?”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Professor,” she said. “I agree. We don’t know what other kinds of puzzles are hidden in that thing. It’s my duty to safeguard it.”

Layton nodded and smiled. He placed his hat back on his head and began to walk back towards his room, Emmy trailing behind him. He quietly opened the door so as not to disturb Luke. 

Emmy gestured for Cherri to join her outside after bidding Layton a silent goodnight. Cherri picked up her heels from where she had taken them off and followed Emmy into the hall. She blinked, adjusting to the bright light of the hallway despite the late hour.

Emmy folded her hands in front of her and met Cherri’s eyes. “The professor and I-” she said, faltering. How was she to phrase this? How did one explain the danger of Azran artifacts?

“You should sleep in my room tonight,” she ended up saying lamely. “You know, for, um,” she said, putting a hand behind her neck, “safety reasons. You can’t go home this late now.”

Cherri just laughed softly. “Sure. I assume you have something more comfortable I could borrow?” 

Emmy nodded silently and led Cherri to her room not five steps across the hall from Luke and Layton’s. They entered, and Emmy turned on the light. She found some night clothes for Cherri and handed them to her, grabbing her own from on top of the bed where she had abandoned them.

“I’ll just-” Emmy pointed her thumb awkwardly towards the en suite bathroom, heading there to change. Nervous thoughts ran through her head for the time it took her to change, wondering if Cherri had signaled anything to her through her touches. Or were those just casual friendly overtures? Oh dear, she had forgotten there was just one bed. Would she take the floor? Would Cherri be okay with sharing? Goodness, she just needed to-

Emmy opened the bathroom door. Cherri lay in Emmy’s bed, wearing Emmy’s clothes and in a suggestive position.

“I hope I didn’t… misread anything,” Cherri almost-but-not-quite whispered. 

Emmy just nodded mutely. She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Cherri. Emmy turned to face her and leaned in, close enough to feel the other woman’s breath on her face.

“No,” she said. “You read me exactly right.” 

She reached to the bedside table and turned out the light.

-

Emmy blinked awake. She gradually lifted her head to look at the clock on the night-stand, which had a lit screen reading 2:37. Groggily, Emmy realized a disturbing lack of warmth next to her. She sat up and looked around as she turned on the bedside light. Cherri was nowhere to be found. 

So, donning only her nightclothes and a Reunion bathrobe, Emmy made her way out of her room and down to the lobby of the inn. She scanned for Cherri’s telltale red hair, but found nothing. 

She asked the concierge if he had seen a beautiful ginger lady around. 

“Pay phones,” he said tersely, pointing in a general direction. “Down that hall, on the left.”

Emmy thanked him and was off. Who on Earth would Cherri be calling at this hour? 

She padded silently in her slippers down the carpeted hall. A red-haired figure stood at the last pay phone talking and gesturing- a figure wearing Emmy’s clothes. Emmy walked down to Cherri and wrapped her arms around her waist, burrowing her head into the side of Cherri’s neck where the phone wasn’t.

Cherri put one hand on Emmy’s.

“Uh-huh…” she said. “Yeah, he solved it. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll get it to you by the end of the week. Uh-huh…” Cherri tapped her foot. “Alright. Goodnight.” She hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” Emmy asked, moving her head so that her chin rested on Cherri’s shoulder. 

“Just my employer,” Cherri said. “Singing’s just my side job, you know.”

Hmph. Emmy did know.

“Tell me about this employer. What do you do for him that he calls you at 3 in the morning?”

“He’s… eccentric. I gather ideas for him- whatever interesting gadgets people think need inventing, I guess. That’s the best way to explain it.” The explanation sounded practiced, but Cherri herself sounded tired and strained.

“How eccentric?” Emmy said. She sat down underneath the pay phones, taking Cherri down with her. 

“Well,” Cherri said, giving a small laugh, “he always wears a black cape. You know I’ve never seen his face? And he’s obsessed with the Azran. You know, that’s what he likes me to look around for- Azran technology.” She smiled at Emmy.

 

Emmy stood up with a gasp. Tried to stand up, that is. She hit her head on the bottom of the pay phone box and sat back down. So much for dramatic effect. Emmy rubbed her head, mussing her carefully braided hair. 

“You work for Jean Descole?” she whisper-yelled.

“You know him?” Cherri responded calmly.

“I think you know I know him,” Emmy hissed. “I may not be as talented as the professor, but I can put this much together. Gathering ideas? You’re just getting intel on the professor! Playing dumb so that he could solve that gear puzzle for you… Wait, I solved that gear puzzle for you!”

Cherri sighed. “The jig, it would seem, is up.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Emmy was running hot as a kettle on anger. “I thought you were clueless! I saved you from those henchmen!”

“Thank you for that, but I’m just doing my job,” Cherri said.

“And me? Am I part of the job?”

Cherri stood. “I think I should leave.”

Emmy stood with her, careful not to hit the pay phone booth this time. She took Cherri’s hand.

“No, answer my question. Was I part of the job?”

Cherri looked back, first at her hand, then at Emmy. Her lip curled. And though in her heart she knew it wasn’t true, the safest answer was-

“Yes.”

-

Emmy knew she could throw a damn good punch. The proof was in the pudding, and the pudding was currently the Reunion Inn brand punching bag that she was viciously attacking. The metal structure securing it in place shook with each hit, her boxing gloves smacking into tough canvas.

Hitting things- or people- was probably an unnecessarily violent method to relieving stress. This, in addition to knowing she threw a good punch, was something Emmy knew. But in the span of her short life, she had found that there was nothing so effective as her knuckles making contact with something. 

Even puzzles were not so gratifying. 

She kept hitting, mixing punch combinations with kicks. Each landed hit was a sharp crack of lightning against the punching bag, perfect to match her stormy mood. 

_Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack-crack-crack._ One hit for each person her uncle had put in danger. 

Professor. _Crack._ Luke. _Crack._ Every other patron of the casino- a succession of quick punches.

And Cherri. Heaven above, Cherri. How stupid Emmy had been, allowing herself to be duped.

Hits rained down upon the punching bag. Emmy wasn’t sure if she was pretending the bag was Cherri or herself. Herself, probably, because she was such a hypocrite. Kicked Cherri out for betrayal, and how! She was doing the same thing to Layton and Luke that Cherri did to her.

Emmy remembered Cherri’s kisses. Well, not quite what Cherri did to her, she supposed.

It was hard to live with herself, knowing what she did, and knowing the professor as she did. Morality was never Emmy’s strong suit- she’d kick someone’s throat for a minor offense and let almost anything slide for her allies. 

The hotel’s gymnasium was large, and so designed that each crack of Emmy’s boxing gloves echoed throughout the concrete space. It was so loud that she didn’t hear the professor come up to the punching bag and sit down on the cool metal bench where her robe resided, near the lifting weights. 

He wasn’t dressed for bed, but he wasn’t exactly dressed for waking hours either. Layton wore his usual slacks with a white undershirt, all under his brown coat. His head was bare, but his feet were covered by loafers (with a distinct lack of socks). 

Layton cleared his throat. Emmy froze mid-punch, the sleeves of her white pajama top still floating in the air. She was breathing heavily, concentrated even more intensely than she was during the poker game.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he said.

“What are you doing up, Professor? It’s four in the morning.” Emmy was slouched, a departure from her usual perfect posture. Whether it was out of exhaustion or shame, she didn’t know. 

“Just mulling over a difficult puzzle. And you, Emmy?”

She started to pull off her gloves. “I’m just… letting go for a little while.”

“Anything you’d like to share?” The professor’s eyes were locked with Emmy’s. A tremor passed through her body. It seemed as if he knew she’d been keeping secrets.

“Cherri was a spy,” Emmy exhaled. “For Descole. I sent her away.”

“Now that wasn’t very gentlewomanly, was it?” said Layton.

Emmy kicked the punching bag. It swung halfheartedly, as if it couldn’t be bothered. “I suppose not,” she muttered like a sullen child.

“But Professor…” she said, walking over to sit next to him on the bench. 

“You know you can tell me anything, Emmy.”

Not anything, she thought. She couldn’t tell him about Uncle Leon and how he was the cause of everything that happened tonight. 

He needed something to hear, though. How would he react to what happened with Cherri? Surely he wouldn’t have a problem with her being with another woman… would he? Should she say Cherri left and leave it at that?

“Professor, we spent the night together. Really, really spent the night together.” Words spilled out of Emmy’s mouth in a waterfall of her sadness at being used and betrayed. Layton didn’t seem fazed. 

“I see,” he said, considering the notion. “Of course that’s fine with me, Emmy, but the purpose of her staying was to protect the necklace.”

“The necklace!” Emmy gasped. “She took it when she left!” She jumped up onto her feet, but the professor placed a gentle hand on her wrist.

“Emmy,” he said gently, as if he had already known what she was going to say. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

“But… but….” she trailed off. “I have to… I have to do something!” Emmy collapsed on the bench. She hated feeling helpless. She couldn’t do the one thing the professor had asked her to do, and it seemed that she was miserably failing so far to serve her uncle well. 

And then, of course, the red-haired Cherri on top of Emmy’s disaster sundae.

Emmy couldn’t help it. She leaned into Layton and started to cry, shuddering in her attempts to stop. Her breath was hard and heavy, like it had been when she was fighting a piece of canvas. 

Layton wrapped an arm around her shivering form. What a pair they made, Layton in his mismatched outfit and Emmy looking almost ghostlike in her white pajamas. How nice it was, Emmy thought, to know she had someone’s unconditional support. She felt secure, nestled with the professor.

Her sobs echoed around the empty gym. The two sat there, feeling as if they were the only two beings in the universe at that moment. The noise slowly got quieter until Emmy lay asleep with her head in the professor’s lap. 

The fluorescent lights in the gym flickered out, and Layton went back to bed, Emmy in his arms.

-

Luke, Layton, and Emmy left early the next morning, after bidding goodbye to Randall and the Ledores. Emmy and Luke slept in the backseat while Layton drove, not bickering for once in their lives.

The road ahead was long and the sky a sunny blue. And the three made their way to the next adventure, ready for whatever the new day had to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you caught the tiny reference to Millionaire's Conspiracy I'm proud of you. Thanks for reading!


End file.
